When You Play Games
by Javelinlover
Summary: The Town versus the Mafia is dramatic enough. But what happens when everyone is Mafia in a massive free-for-all? When people throw away their morals in pursuit of victory, betrayals and heartbreak ensue. Features about a million OCs.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: wrote this about a million years ago, so it's filled with old memes. apologies to any who cringe. hope you enjoy, though! also s/o to callane and Lord Gaius, for working on this with me.**

Many see games as simply a form of entertainment. Useless. Wasteful. Detached from reality. But what happens when you take a game and turn all of its twisted concepts into reality? What would be the goal of such an experiment? Knowledge, of course. Knowledge is always the goal. The psychology division of a prestigious university was looking for high school students to test for data on the difference in choices between perceived reality and fantasy. Serenes' Hope Academy, with its inordinate amount of Mafia players, was a perfect place to bring the game "Everyone is Mafia Mafia" into reality. A simple flyer was handed out, advertising the game. In the span of two days, applications and waivers were completed and submitted. The players were selected and informed of their acceptance with an email.

Despite the fantastic experiment that was about to commence, the setting of the game was rather tranquil, much like the calm before a storm. Surrounded by a forest with a small river flowing within walking distance, it mirrored places such as the zen gardens of Japan. The school was almost its own city, with several restaurants, coffeehouses, and other such commercial businesses within its borders. However, the 'city' was always extraordinarily clean, as rules prohibited most things that could harm the environment, punishable by hours spent cleaning up any contamination that one might have caused. The residents and the visitors worked together to protect the cherished home of the 'Serenity Chinchillas'. The headmaster of the school was an eccentric man who knew of the danger the world was in and fought it the only way he knew how: educating young adults about it. He believed that if the youth of the world could make their own decisions, unsheltered from the horrors of the world but nudged towards environmental preservation, the world would save itself though the actions of the next generation. Believing that the game would cultivate his students' leadership skills, he supported the creation, so long as it didn't interfere with their grades. After receiving the headmaster's approval, the team set up their experiment, selecting their subjects from a complicated selection process.

The selection process aimed to narrow the fifty four applicants to around twenty to thirty. Looking at many different factors, including but not limited to grades, previous Mafia win-loss record, and reputation, twenty six contestants were eventually selected. These twenty six received an email and a small package. The package contained a horseshoe-shaped metal arc, and a note to read the email first. The email read:

"Congratulations! You have been selected to partake in the first ever game of Everyone is Mafia Mafia, hosted by Serenes' Hope Academy! The objective is simple: stay alive! Enclosed are the rules, which we are sure you have already read. However, please make a note to read them again, as there have been additions to the rules.

Rules

Your grades must not drop below a C- while partaking in this game. If they do, you will be expelled from the game unless there are extenuating circumstances.

When talking to anyone in a chatting format, please add the host to the conversation.

When interacting with other players in real life or in a video call, your avatar must be activated. Instructions and tips on avatar construction are included in an attached PDF.

Your username must not be inappropriate.

You may be aggressive, but you may _not_ be a jerk to other players. This is a voluntary activity, so stay friendly!

All actions and shots will target aliases, not usernames or names. The aliases and usernames playing will be listed when the game starts.

All shots have a chance to miss.

Day One is 72 hours. All Days following it are 48 hours, unless otherwise specified. Night phases start with a 6 hour timer upon phasing into the VR school.

Keep real life and game life separate. Don't _actually_ kill anyone. Shots and actions will pass through a filter to ensure target and subject anonymity.

You will have two bulletproof vests (BPVs) given to you by the host. You will not be able to get more BPVs. One BPV will protect from one shot. Everyone has one faction shot. If you are targeted by more killing actions than your BPV count during a night, you will die.

Once 'dead', do not reveal information or talk to living players. You may, however, rant in the graveyard.

Have fun!

The game will start 6 days from today, on Friday, October 27th at exactly 6 PM. Before then, please send an alias to shacontactEiMM . .us, set up your avatarLinker and avatar, and begin preparing for the game! If you have any questions, please send them to the same email address.

Sincerely,

Serenes' Hope Academy Faculty"

~x~

The classroom wasn't particularly loud, despite the fact that it was lunchtime. Many of the students chose to eat outside when the weather was nice, to take advantage of the picturesque surroundings that the school was so renowned for. The students who had access to a vehicle occasionally traveled to the dorms or nearby shops for food. Altogether, students were largely left to their own devices when it came to lunchtime. The faculty believed this to be the best way to encourage responsibility.

The students who did choose to remain in the classrooms could be easily classified into three distinct categories. The first category consisted of the overachievers, the students who studied through lunch, and as such, spent their lunches in the classroom. The second category held all of the lazy or overworked kids, who chose to nap in the classroom. The last category contained the clubs. In this case, it was the Mafia club, who found the cafeteria far too noisy, the outside far too bright, and the dorms far too inconvenient. Every day, they would go to classroom 2-A if they felt like playing Mafia. Today, there were uncommonly many for a Monday, due to the announcement on Friday of the realization of Everyone is Mafia Mafia, or EiMM as it had been dubbed.

"Hey, does anyone know who got accepted?" someone asked the half-full classroom eagerly.

"I heard Julius got an acceptance email, but I dunno. We'll find out when the player list gets posted, I suppose," replied another.

A guy in a grey blazer with spiky white-blond hair shrugged his shoulders with an oddly cheerful grin. "Julie was accepted? Ah, I guess I'm not surprised. Have you seen the guy's scum rollrate? It's insane."

"Shut up, Verse," retorted a taller girl with dark brown hair, her arms crossed. "You've rolled scum more than a fair few times yourself." Despite her words, she gave a small smile to let them know she was joking.

Smiling awkwardly in reply, the spiky-haired blond admitted, "Ah, I suppose that's correct, Lane, but at least I'm not any good as scum, right? That's the difference between Ju and I."

"Scum rate doesn't equal acceptance rate, though. That's what I'm saying." She sighed. "Eh, whatever, you understand my poi一"

A wave of discomfort abruptly settled over the classroom, causing the dark haired girl to pause and glance towards the door. The edge of the door opened ever-so-slightly.

The spiky-haired guy murmured, "Speak of the devil, and he shall come."

The door slid open with an ominous creak, and the room in shadows was bathed with an equally foreboding sunlight. A silhouette shrouded in light stepped into the mafia room, making several people squint as their eyes were assaulted.

An irritated female voice broke the silence. "Julius, close the damn door or you're going to give us all migraines from light overexposure.

"Sorry," the silhouette responded, and the door slid shut, revealing a rather average male.

Lane hissed, "Verse, how did you know it was him before he even opened the door?" Several pairs of eyes turned to the blond, wondering the same thing.

Verse waved a hand dismissively. "His aura is so distinctive, it was like telling apart fire and fire. It was easy."

"Or maybe you just stalk him too much," she muttered to herself, but it was too quiet to hear. The rest of the room was focused on Julius anyway.

Julius looked around, noticing the stares. The conversations started up again, and he shrugged and walked over to the girl with strawberry-blonde hair who had spoken earlier and sat down next to her. He decided it really didn't matter if something happened and just chilled in his chair.

The door slammed open and seemed to quiver in its frame. A distinctly male figure walked in, concealed by a hood over their head. Taking a seat on the teacher's desk, the figure removed his jacket, revealing messy brown hair, a warm smile, and brilliant green eyes behind square-rimmed glasses. Immediately, the chatter quieted down (not that there was much of it in the first place). Calling people to attention, somewhat unnecessarily, he clapped and smiled again. "Good morning, everyone!" he greeted cheerfully. Although he had a commanding presence, his voice was rather soft.

"It's _lunch_ , Tinker," a guy complained, mock-frowning with his hazel eyes and breaking the silence that had reigned for a few seconds.

Shooting an exasperated look at the owner of the voice, Tinker sighed, "Figure of speech, Kalen."

He received only a shrug in response. He shook his head and continued. "Let's begin today with a vote, shall we? Should we play a game or should we discuss this new game, Everyone is Mafia Mafia, I believe it's called?"

The chatter that had died upon his entrance started up again as the mood relaxed.

Sparkling unnecessarily, a brunet with starry amber eyes waved his hand around in the air, enthusiasm infusing his every pore. "Do you really have to ask? I'm putting my vote for the new game, of course~!" he said, smiling blindingly. Instantly, the tense atmosphere dissipated, and many of the smiles that were killed by the successive arrivals of the two officers were revived. It was as if his smile was contagious.

"praiserufflets," another person, who was residing underneath several blankets, said in agreement. Sticking out a sleeve-clad hand, a thumb flipped out in the thumbs-up pose as he placed his vote for "new game" as well.

"Ya, definitely new game," responded the strawberry blonde, staring intensely at her phone screen. Her hands clutched at the rose gold device as if expressing a perpetual internal scream. "Pokemon Go is a new game and it's mostly awesome. Therefore this new game should also be awesome. Unless it has, like, insane waiting times."

"I'd like to know too," commented another girl, who was sitting next the strawberry blonde. Upon further examination, she looked like a carbon copy of her neighbor, albeit with shorter and more naturally colored hair. "I'm interested in knowing what this new game is all about. Especially since I'm not super experienced with this Mafia stuff yet." She smiled, as if to remind the room that she was still entitled to the newcomer lenience despite her previous connections to the community.

"I suppose hearing more about stuff is always good. I mean, being too informed is never a bad thing, right?" a black-haired male said with a slight smile in his eyes, managing to sound both stoked and very, very bored. He fiddled absentmindedly with a pair of sunglasses in his hands and flipped his hair out of his face as he voted to hear about the new game.

The other 24 people in the room responded along the same lines, most assenting to the "new game" discussion.

"Let's see, there's… 31 of us. I wonder… how many of you got an acceptance letter and would like to share?" Tinker asked. Twelve people raised their hands, including Julius, the sparkly guy, and Tinker himself. Looking at the people who raised their hands, Verse sighed under his breath, "Why am I not surprised…? Not only the Scumlord and the Leader, but the Cyan, the Charmer, the KKK, _and_ the Crow too. Just my luck."

Tinker smiled and said, "Well, first of all, congratulations! I look forward to playing you, for those of you that got accepted. For those that didn't, well—" Abruptly, the door slid open yet _again_ , albeit just a sliver this time, and a brown-haired male wearing a beige blazer slid smoothly through the crack, clearly trying to be unobtrusive and just as clearly failing. He saw them staring at him and smiled sheepishly, then rapidly strode to his usual spot. Oddly enough, the next few seats beside him were empty. Tinker blinked and mentally shrugged, continuing. "Shall we go over the rules first? They apparently added a few rules in the acceptance letter."

"Ya, sure, but has anyone figured out how to use this thing?" the strawberry blonde asked, holding up a horseshoe-shaped arc of metal. "I tried turning it on yesterday, but like aside from a light that blinks really really quickly on the side, it's been more unresponsive than the Pokemon Go servers, and that's impressive."

"Rose," the girl sitting next to her deadpanned, "You've spent more time playing Pokemon than you have trying to work the avatarLinker." She took the metal arc, slid the power icon instead of pressing it, and handed it back to the girl with longer hair.

"avatarLinker? Is that what it's called?" Rose muttered to herself, absentmindedly taking back the metal arc and turning it back off. She began defending her decisions. "Well, whatever it is, it's not my fault if I find a CP 710 Charmeleon that refuses to get into my Pokeball!"

"By the way, Rose, uh, what team are you?" Verse called out awkwardly.

"Team Valor!" she replied enthusiastically, pumping her fist in the air.

Briefly, there was a moment of silence.

"Oh, um, sorry about taking over the dorm 3 gym then," said Verse apologetically.

The words hung in the air for a couple of seconds before a quiet voice asked, "Mystic or Instinct?" Heads turned to find the owner of the voice, a calm-looking girl with a high ponytail, sitting casually by the door.

Before Verse could respond, Lane loudly whispered, "I'm betting on Mystic."

The spiky-haired blond turned to the ponytailed girl with a frown and lightly swatted her shoulder, calling out, "That's no fair, Lane! You already knew."

"Wait, so you're in Mystic?" Rose looked utterly betrayed as she rapidly scooted forward into the light. " _HOW COULD YOU._ " The way she whispered it wasn't a question. It was a threat only barely veiled by her pretense of casualness, and everyone could pick up on it. "VALOR! It's _got to be Valor!_ "

From his seat, the previously-mentioned unobtrusive brunet stood up and pumped his fist up in the air. " _VALOR!_ " he echoed enthusiastically.

"I'm in Valor as well," the girl who had been sitting beside Rose said slowly. "But don't you guys think you're taking this too seriousl—"

"VALOR!" the brunet screamed, cutting her off. The other members of Team Valor in the room stood up, chanting, "Val-or! Val-or!" repeatedly. The temperature in the room started rising with each person that stood up, until the room grew so hot that the other, previously unnoticed occupants of the room frowned, strode over to the windows, and opened them all, letting the buildup of hot air release into the sky. Abruptly, a gust of icy wind blew through the open windows, making many of the standing Valorians shiver involuntarily.

"Valor is trash, Mystic all the way," a voice called out from underneath the pile of blankets.

"vALOR!" screeched the brunet.

"Mystic," countered the currently disembodied voice.

"VALOR IS FOR THE STRONG, MYSTIC IS FOR THE WEAK BETA NERDS," the brunet screamed. He had an impressive vocal range.

"Cipher, fight me. Not right now, though. I'm sick," the voice sneezed.

"ONE V ONE ME, RUFF, I'LL CRUSH YOU," the brunet said loudly. "But later, I guess. For now—" he raised his voice again, along with his fist. "VALOOOOOORR!"

The other Valors in the room took up the chant again. "VAL-OR! VAL-OR! VAL-OR! VAL—"

"MYSTIC!" the girl sitting by the door shouted, in a rare fit of volume. Verse, Lane, the dude beneath the blankets, and several others took up the call, chanting "MYS-TIC! MYS-TIC!" and intermittently throwing insults like "Valor sucks!" or "Red is the color that'll be spilling out of you when we finish you!"

"VALOOOOOOORR!" the Valorians roared back. The classroom deteriorated into a mass shouting match, with Julius, Tinker, and the sparkly guy just staring at the mess. While Julius shook his head in disappointment and Tinker looked on incredulously, the sparkly guy chimed in, "Well, how about Team Instinct?"

The shouting paused. Both sides considered.

"Instinct is okay. I have no quarrels with Instinct—"

"Instinct's memes are great. I have respect for Spark, to be honest."

"—but Mystic sucks," the brunet argued. "Mystic is a bunch of WEAK blue-blooded lizards."

"Glad you're part of Team Mystic then, Cipher," a towering male with dark-hair said, smiling slightly. His oddly young features contrasted sharply with his height, but no one was paying attention to that. The quiet jibe was far more noticeable than mere matters of _tallness_.

Despite being approximately half a foot shorter than the other male, Cipher started. "Puny nerd—" Unfortunately, he was interrupted by another voice. The voice of the blanket guy.

"Come at me," he challenged, then subsequently sneezed. Several people looked at him in pity before ignoring him completely. A moment of silence ensued, like the calm before a storm. Then, simultaneous shouts of "VALOOOOORR!" and "MYSTICCCCCC!" reignited the fight. The noise grew to a crescendo, almost destroying everyone's eardrums before an irrationally loud clap paused them.

"Okay, okay. We get it. Pokemon Go is a disease, now _please_ , back to the topic..." As the crowd slowly dropped back into their chairs, Tinker rubbed his temple wearily. "Umm, where were we again?"

Pulling out a yellow legal pad, Verse cheerfully twirled a pencil around, having seemingly forgotten the fight in a matter of seconds. "We were at a twenty-seven to four vote in favor of discussing the new game, and Rose wanted to know how the avatarLinker worked, but Lavender seemed to have resolved that for her, right?" The blonde pair nodded in unison.

"Shall we begin discussing the rules, then?" Tinker said in a cheerful tone.

"Oh, I printed out twenty copies of them, if anyone doesn't remember or… _didn't read them_ ," Verse said in a tone that promised hell to anyone who admitted to that blasphemous mistake. When no one confessed to the the latter, Verse smiled serenely and began handing out the copies.

"I've been curious about rule number 8, to be honest. The 'thou shalt not commit physical harm' one? What sort of filter would preserve anonymity to that extent?" the ponytailed girl sitting by the door said.

"Probably the same filter that conceals our identities behind an avatar with a simple metal arc. I mean, if the teachers have this sort of technology, who knows what else they have access to?"

"Actually, I asked one of the teachers. Apparently the avatar is just a simple light projection made possible by water vapor and the diffusion of light. It's really only a couple of algorithms solved to calculate for the refraction of water droplets. It's basically a projection on water, with compensation for the color. I checked it out already, and it's really nothing fancy, Alice," Lane interjected.

"Wait, you know the teachers who are hosting it?"

"Yeah, when my English teacher emailed me with corrections for my essay, she included a note at the end saying, 'Regarding your last essay, Gatsby was not in the mafia. However, speaking generally, some do feel as if people in life are out to get them. Just remember that life isn't a game, so feel free to ask me questions anytime.' The funny thing was that our last essay was about _Hamlet_ , not the _Great Gatsby_ , so I assumed she was making a reference to the mafia game and asked her covertly about rule #8."

"I see. Did you ask about anything else? Anything you'd like to share?" Cipher asked.

Lane gave him a look and said, "I asked about avatar creation. Did you know that you can customize your avatar? You can also make them androgynous. It's pretty cool. The best thing is that your avatar only shows to people in the game due to a detector for other avatarLinkers. Plus, the metal arc automatically censors another player's name if it's said. However, a few select individuals who didn't quite make the cut, but were close to being selected were also given Linkers. The Linker censors those names as well."

"Lane, who do you have for English? I think we should all be able to access equal resources, right? And that includes sources of information," said Rose, smiling apologetically. "I'd love to be able to ask the questions myself."

Frowning at Rose from his desk, Verse said disapprovingly, "You could just email the contact email the staff sent with the acceptance letter, you know. You don't need to know who Lane's English teacher is to ask questions. That's why they made a contact email in the first place—"

"Verse, you just gave yourself away," hissed Lane just loud enough for the blond boy to hear, "I thought we were keeping our acceptance quiet?"

Continuing on as if he had heard nothing, Verse proceeded with his lecture. "Didn't you read the email? Or did you think that because you had seen the rules already, you wouldn't need to read it again? If you had reviewed it, you would have seen the contact email, and the added rules."

"Hey, I was going to read the rest of the email, but I got it at 3 AM and was legit super duper tired, okay? Sorry for not reading the rules again, I didn't realize that you were so offended by it," Rose apologized, holding her hands out in the universal placating gesture.

"Yeah, it's fine," Verse mumbled, still slightly miffed.

"Well, then, does anyone have any questions? We could compile a list of them and send them to the staff, so they can answer them in one fell swoop, instead of having to answer the same question ten times. I'm sure we're all curious about the mechanics of the game." Just like that, Tinker had control of the discussion again.

The class delved into chatter about the game and by the end of lunch, they had compiled a list of seven major questions they wanted to ask. When the first bell chimed, the Mafia community rose together and began packing up, closing the windows and moving the desks and chairs back where they belonged. After all, despite their many differences in personality, they were all two things: a Serenes' Hope Academy student and a Mafia player.

~x~

Long after school had ended, a shady figure traveled by the light of the setting sun, maneuvering their way quietly to classroom 2-A. The figure observed the surroundings, then allowed themself a small smile. Taking a chair and setting it next to the storage locker in the back of the room, the figure climbed onto the chair and picked up a recording device lying haphazardly on top of the cabinet. Pressing the button painted with the black square, another smile spread across the figure's face. They slipped the device into their pocket, replaced the chair in its proper place, and walked out of the room. The figure strolled casually down the hallway to the stairs, attempting to make it out of the school without being seen. Unfortunately, another person was at the bottom of the stairs, so the figure took their hand out of their pocket and waved a greeting in an attempt to seem natural. As they got closer, the figure recognized him as Leo Cosmos, a member of the student council. It seemed that Leo was performing a routine checkup of the school's cleanliness, a duty all student council members did every week, with a different person assigned to each day, including Saturdays and Sundays. Though he looked a bit skeptical, Leo didn't question the figure, and merely nodded to them and walked past them to get to the second floor. Mentally sighing in relief, they got out of the school as quickly as they could and walked rapidly to the dorms. Only in the safety of the room, with the door locked securely behind them did the figure reach into their pocket and realize. The recording device wasn't there. Icy blue eyes flared in frustration.

"Goddammit!"


	2. Chapter 2

Blinking in groggy confusion, cloudy grey-green eyes stared at the empty coffee container that was blurring in and out of focus. "I forgot again, huh…" a voice murmured, sounding vaguely distressed. A strand of white-blond hair fell in the way of the clouded eyes, and the eyes crossed to look at it. A hand moved up lazily to sweep the stray lock back into the bird's nest atop his head. Then he sighed, placing the container back in the cupboard and trudging into his room.

Moving in a daze, he changed into his uniform, brushed his teeth, attempted to make his birdnest somewhat presentable, gave up, and went back into the kitchen. Glancing at the time (5:53), he pulled on his blazer, put on socks and shoes, grabbed his bag, slung a bulky black case over his shoulder, and stepped out the door. He looked around and sighed. Of course no one was up, it was six in the morning and classes started at eight.

He walked down the hall and knocked at the last door on the right.

No answer.

He sighed and placed his hand flat against the door. The door clicked open. He stepped through and closed the door behind him. Walking over to the inconspicuous white door decorated with a single red ribbon hanging on the doorknob, he hesitated before knocking softly on the door. "Lane?" he called out, voice unnaturally loud in the silence, "Are you awake?"

No answer.

"Hello?" he called again.

"Boo."

He turned around to see a guy with light red hair and an expression so deadpan that it was evident that he was trying to conceal something. The blond raised an eyebrow. "Who're you?" he questioned dully, curiosity somewhat piqued despite his morning grogginess.

The stranger laughed and made a hand motion like he was poking something in midair. His face shimmered, then collapsed, revealing cerulean eyes and dark brown hair tied in a neat, low ponytail. "You know who I am now?" she said, grinning.

He smiled back weakly. "Hi, Lane."

The grin fell from her face as she noted his unusually tired response. "Did you run out of coffee again?" she asked rhetorically, sighing in exasperation and pinching the bridge of her nose.

"Yeah, you wanna get going early and grab a cup on the way to school?" he asked.

"You know I don't drink coffee, Verse一"

"I'll buy you a scone," Verse interrupted Lane and grabbed her wrist and her bag, pulling both out the door. "Please, I need my coffee."

"Ahh, how can I say no to that?" She grinned. Pulling out her phone, she looked at the time. 6:05. "Actually...Verse. I like scones, but why on earth are we going to school two hours early, again?"

"Three hours, actually, because of the late start. But we're not going to school early, we're getting _coffee_ early. And a scone," he conceded when Lane shot him a look.

As the pair made their way out of the dorm complex to the fresh, cool, morning air outside, they fell into an easy conversation. "How'd you do that earlier, by the way? The whole uh… switching genders thing?"

"Oh, that was the avatarLinker." Lane pulled down her shirt collar part way to reveal a thin metal strip around her neck. "I was messing around with my avatar and that was what I chose. What do you think?"

"Perfect if you want to conceal your identity. I mean, if you fooled me, you can probably fool the others, so long as no one has been stalking you."

"You must be joking, who would want to stalk me?" There was brief period of silence. Lane shrugged and continued, "Hey, have you chosen your avatar yet?"

"Nah, I've been a bit busy with riflery practice lately. The tournament's in two weeks and I haven't been shooting well."

"Right, good luck with that. You should probably get on with your avatar, though. The game starts on the weekend and you need to get your avatar set up before then. It takes about half an hour to set up if you know what you want your avatar to be."

"I'll just do it now, then. We still have 20 minutes until we reach the coffee shop, and there isn't anyone around." Verse reached into his bag and took out the metal arc. Pushing it onto his neck, Verse fumbled at the side for the power switch. He found it and slid it into the 'on' position, then started in surprise at the sight that greeted him.

"It really is trippy, isn't it?" said Lane, grinning.

"Yeah." Verse said absentmindedly as he frowned at the words now hovering at the center of his vision.

' _Hello. Before we begin, is there anyone around you? Wave your hand in front of the Linker if so and press_ _ **here**_ _if not_.'

Verse waved his hand through the message in response, prompting the words to rearrange to form a new message.

' _Do you trust the people around you to not think you are insane? If not, please turn off and remove the avatarLinker now, and try again when you are alone. If so, please press the box below_.'

A box labeled 'OK!' was floating below the message. Verse shook his head and pressed the button. One part of his mind noted that these buttons must have been what Lane was poking at before. The letters swirled again, forming a new message.

' _Please type in your information_.'

Underneath, there were several boxes labeled full name, ID number, username, grade, gender, height, and schedule. "Schedule? Why on earth do they need my schedule?" Verse mused aloud.

"Oh, they ask you to rank your classes in terms of attention later. I think it's so that the Linker will know whether to alert you to a message or not."

"Ah, makes sense."

He typed in "Verse Hoshizora" and his ID number, then paused.

"I didn't think this far," he sighed. "What on earth do put my username as?"

"Maybe base it off words from other languages? Or your name? Or maybe your personality, I dunno."

"Hmm… What's your username, Lane?"

"I put mine as callane, lowercase C," she shrugged. "It's just a combination of my last name and my first name. I think it's vague enough."

"I don't think that's gonna work for me, because my name isn't as verse-atile as yours. I can only use it to make bad puns," he laughed weakly. "Maybe the personality thing will work."

"Hmm, you're a bit flighty. How about something related to birds?" Lane suggested, hiding a smile.

"Hey, I'm not flighty," Verse protested, then paused. "Okay, fine, you win that one. Hmmm, birds fly, flying requires air, air is _kuki_. My favorite type of bird…" He paused for a moment, muttering under his breath as he tried to get the two words to mesh. "Lane, what do you think of the name kukotori?"

"Remind me, what was _kotori_ again?" Lane raised an eyebrow.

"Bluebird."

"Ah, right. It fits, then. Go for it. Unless you're okay with Vershizora," she teased, cackling. "Or better yet, the Aporculypse! You know, because of your hair."

"Hey, my bird's nest does not in any way look like a porcupine," Verse said with mock severity, struggling to keep the smile off his face. A hand reached up to smooth down the stray locks.

"You absolute egg, spoiling my fun." Lane sighed and took down her ponytail, re-tying it as they walked. "I should have never broken out of my shell to meet you."

"But if you hadn't done that, you would've never made such an… eggcellent friendship."

"Oh, hey! You did get the memo. And here I thought you didn't know I'd been cracking puns at you since... three seconds ago."

"And yet, I'm already egghausted from this. Or maybe it's just because I haven't gotten my coffee yet." Sighing and shaking his head yet again, Verse turned part of his attention back to the floating screen, punching in the rest of his information and pressing enter.

"Hmm. If you keep reusing the same puns, my anger will probably reach its boiling point soon. I'm already broken as it is."

Verse completely ignored her, staring at the screen only he could see. "Oh my gods. Oh my flipping gods, is this for real?" Verse frowned. It looked like a character customization screen from the terrible dress-up games on the internet back in the day, except with many more options, including the option to draw your own style. A small note in the corner read, " _The faculty at Serene's Hope Academy are monitoring the drawings to make sure that no inappropriate content is drawn as an avatar. If you are caught with an inappropriate avatar, you will be expelled from the game. Thank you for your consideration_."

"My gods, this is terrible," he groaned, visibly cringing as he shuffled through the options, shaking his head at each one.

After flipping through what seemed like a thousand options, he found a hairstyle that looked like what he was looking for. He selected it, and saw it appear on the mock avatar next to the selections. He frowned again. Selection was going to be a tedious process.

"None of the hairstyles here are good," Verse complained.

"Have you tried looking at the options from the other gender?"

"Huh, that might be a good idea." Clicking to the opposite screen, he browsed the options as Lane continued talking.

"Honestly, I feel like going as the opposite gender is a lot more aesthetic, because it's more appealing, you know? It's like a psychological effect, because humankind has this sin of always wanting what they can't have. And you can't really achieve the other gender's look without being judged a lot, save a for few exceptions."

"I mean, I guess you could look at it like that."

"Also, a lot of people probably want to look like someone they like the look of, and as human beings, we generally pay attention to the opposite gend一" Suddenly, Lane fell silent. Verse looked up, alarmed, to see her staring at the window of the coffee shop that they had just caught sight of. A lone person was sitting in the window booth. Upon closer inspection, the person was Julius. Awkwardly, Lane continued, "一er more than our own. But they don't want to all the time, so many would just turn it off when things got awkward." Translation: _Turn it off, situation approaching._

Verse stopped, his face contorting in pain. After a moment of war within his own body, he dropped into a hacking fit of coughs. These coughs proceeded to get worse and worse until Lane grabbed his right arm and guided him towards a wall. Verse clutched at his throat, then stumbled into a nearby alley and put his right hand on the wall, as if he needed it for support. Terrible retching noises echoed around the alley as Verse reached up to restrain his unruly locks. Lane moved to conceal him. While pushing back his white-blond hair with his right hand, he simultaneously turned the avatarLinker off and slipped it into the pocket inside his blazer with his left. He stayed there, breathing heavily, for a few seconds, then spat a couple of times, wiped his mouth, and straightened up, smiling apologetically. "Sorry一" He interrupted himself, erupting into another fit of coughs. "Sorry about that. Same drill as always. It wasn't too bad, though. I didn't puke this time." Translation: _Sorry about the showy performance. I couldn't think of anything else, so I just used my standard excuse. I don't think he suspects anything, though. I didn't mess up this time._

Lane sighed. "Well, it's always good to be prepared. You never know when an asthma attack will happen. Just be sure to always have your inhaler, alright?" Translation: _You're okay, I think he believed it. But don't let your guard down, he might have noticed and just didn't react to it. Be careful_.

"Look, someone's always gotta be the responsible one and carry an inhaler, but it sure ain't gonna be me." Translation: _Someone's here, but I don't know who._

"Fine, I'll carry it. Best I have it rather than you lose it." Translation: _Got it._

Verse took out his inhaler and handed it to Lane with a smile that seemed apologetic, but to people who knew him, it showed only triumph.

~x~

On a small balcony above the alley, Rose fiddled with an avatarLinker. As she eavesdropped shamelessly, she frowned. 'There's something off about this conversation. This pair is going on the watchlist.' Flicking the 'on' switch with almost distaste, she took out a cable and a small, thin laptop from the bag at her feet. She connected the cable to the computer and the Linker, unlocked the computer with a few deft keystrokes, and opened up her web browser to her email. She sent a quick email, then disconnected everything, putting it carefully back into the bag.

"...Rose! Rooooose! Rose, where on Earth are you?"

"Coming, Lav! Gimme a minute to pack my work!" Rushing inside, she stuffed the computer bag behind her bed, grabbed her school bag and her binder, disentangled her hair from the bag strap, then stepped out of her room. She was greeted by a large, bright yellow smiley face.

"Happy Half-Birthday, Rose!" a voice emanated cheerfully from behind the giant smiley face. The strawberry blonde smiled.

"Happy Half-Birthday to you too, Lav."

"You forgot, didn't you?" accused the smiley face.

"Of course not! I'm not _that_ irresponsible. You'll see, just let me have a go with the smiley face?"

"Non! C'est la mienne! Tu ne peux pas avoir mon… visage… sourire!" the smiley face exclaimed, shying away defensively.

"Lo siento, pero no entiendo," Rose said, sniffling in obviously fake sadness. "No but seriously, let me wear the smiley face for like two seconds. Por favor."

"Ah, d'accord," the smiley face sighed, taking off the smiley face and revealing another giant smile plastered on her actual face. "Here ya go!"

Rose put on the smiley face, and with a giant smile of her own, ran towards the door and pulled down a roll of paper from the top of the door, where it had been secured. Quickly cramming her feet into her shoes and opening the door, the strawberry blonde started running down the hall, with the paper unfurling behind her to reveal the words "HAPPY HALF BIRTHDAY, LAVENDER" in neon colors and a burst of multi-colored glitter.

"Happy Half-Birthday, Lav!" Rose yelled with a gigantic smile on her face. Since she already had her bag and binder, she ran back down the hallway to the staircase, down the staircase, and out the front door, intent on hanging the banner on top of the front door. Unfortunately, the pair she had been eavesdropping on earlier was walking past the door at the exact moment she came hurtling through it. After attempting to come to a screeching halt, failing, and almost sitting on Lane, the strawberry blonde was pulled up by the near identical blonde.

"Rose, I understand your excitement for today, but don't go barreling into other people," admonished the blonde.

"No soy Rose! Soy una cara sonriente!"

"Just apologize already一" The blonde paused. Rose looked to see her twin staring at the arch of the doorway. "Now how in the world did you manage to get that up there in between hurling the front door open and knocking someone down?"

"Um... accident?" The giant smiley face shrugged its shoulders, putting up its hands in the universal "I don't know" gesture. The smile seemed almost sheepish all of a sudden. A moment passed. Both of the blondes remembered that there were spectators to the event. They both whirled around and started apologizing profusely.

"Sorry一"

"I promise she didn't mean to一"

"I was just a bit excited一"

"Please forgive us!" the duo chimed in unison.

"Um, it wasn't too big of a deal... Just, uh, be more careful next time," Lane said hesitantly, climbing back to her feet. Verse, despite being unhit, looked like he had just been hit by a freight train.

"Uh, Verse? Verse, are you okay? … Verse!"

"...purple sparkles...invisible aura...fire type...gods…" muttered Verse, still staring into space.

"Verse! Snap out of it!" Lane yelled, shaking him. Verse abruptly slumped over. After a moment's pause, he straightened up again with a confused look.

"Where am I? ...Right, haven't gotten my coffee yet, let's go, Lane!" said Verse quickly. He strode off and Lane, after a quick "Sorry about that", followed him. The blonde duo watched the other pair depart.

"Well, that certainly was strange," Rose commented, eyes slightly narrowed at the rapidly retreating pair.

~x~

"Thanks, as always," Verse smiled as soon as they were safely out of earshot of the other duo.

"Ahh, no thanks needed, Verse. You know that. After all, I wouldn't be a very good friend if I asked you to do something and didn't help you," Lane replied with a grin.

"Mmhm. So, crisis safely averted and bait set, what next?"

"Let's just get your coffee and my scone and go."

Verse sighed, closing his eyes in half false, half all too real exhaustion. "Okay."

A bell chimed as Verse and Lane entered the coffee shop, prompting a sleepy voice to call out, "Welcome! Please wait, I'll serve you in a moment."

While Verse sat down on the barstool by the counter, Lane remained standing, pulling out her phone and unlocking it. She tapped on the dimly lit screen and mused over it as they waited for the voice to appear.

"Hello! I can serve you now," the voice called out from the register. Verse quickly stood up and walked over to the register.

"Can I have a large medium black, please?"

"Certainly. Anything else?"

"And uh…" Verse looked at Lane questioningly. She gave him a pointed look, as if to say ' _Really_?' He grinned and continued, "...a blueberry scone, please."

"Heated or nah?"

"Heated, please."

"Alright, then, that'll be… 5 dollars and 32 cents."

After paying and getting the coffee and scone, Verse handed the warmed scone to Lane. "Ready to go, then?"

"Yeah, let's get going."

"Okay!" Verse chirped, tossing the empty cup into the trash and walking out the door. As the door swung shut behind the pair, Lane commented, "That was unusually fast, even for you."

"Eh, I like this coffeehouse's blend hot. Besides, I stopped getting burned a long time ago. I think I downed an extra large in five seconds once."

"And I am constantly amazed by your resistance to extreme temperatures."

"Speaking of which, my face is overheating."

"Might be from, oh, I don't know, the giant cup of hundred degree coffee you literally _just_ drank?"

"No. The warmth from coffee is different. This is omen heating at level seven," Verse stated, breaking into a jog. "We need to get to the school as fast as possible."

"Protocol?"

"53."

The pair ran the rest of the trip in silence, partly to conserve breath and partly because it felt natural. As the uneven footfalls eventually slowed to a walk, the sun broke beyond the cover of clouds, illuminating the east side of the school in a pale yellow glow.

Lane led the way to room 20-A, where she knocked on the door and peered in through the small rectangular window. The woman sitting behind her desk looked up from the stack of papers she was grading and stood up, unlocking the door for the pair.

"I was wondering if you were coming today. It _is_ a late start, so I thought you might drop in later," she said, smiling slightly.

"I didn't want to ruin my internal clock for one more hour of sleep," explained Lane.

"I wanted to be able to chat about the… _Great Gatsby_ … with Lane and still have time for practice," Verse added cheerily.

"You're welcome to chat, just don't make too much noise, okay?"

"Of course, Ms. Song," two voices echoed each other. They sat down side by side and proceeded to discuss in hushed tones, so as to not disturb the teacher, who had relocked the door and was back to grading papers.

"Is the omen heating finished?"

"Yeah, there's no danger of people eavesdropping here. The soundproofing prevents it."

"Alright, good."

Verse sighed, leaning back in his chair and heaving his bag onto the desk. "So, I had a little free time after finishing riflery practice yesterday and I made a chart of all the major Mafia players and their stats according to what the application called for, including playstyles, strengths, and weaknesses. It's all extremely subjective, though." After digging through his bag, he emerged and handed Lane nine sheets of paper, all of them filled on both sides with seemingly messy handwriting.

"Which folder to keep it in? I'm thinking Euro, because this looks nothing like math and there's our… _false lead_ on English," Lane mused.

"What's this I hear about a false lead on English?" Ms. Song interjected.

"I told the Mafia room about my English teacher emailing me about the game. I'm registered to Mrs. Smith in all but participation, though. No one should be able to connect me to Ms. Song, the 4th level AP Lit teacher who supervises Writer's Guild. In addition, WG just so happens to meet on one of the days I go to the Mafia room. If anything, they will bug Mrs. Smith or assume I was lying," the dark-haired girl explained, face expressionless as she talked.

"No worries, Ms. Song! Your confidentiality is not in danger," Verse smiled reassuringly, giving her a thumbs-up.

"If you say so," Ms. Song replied, both puzzled and tired. "I suppose I'll have to be careful with who I talk to."

"That would have happened anyway, Ms. Song. This way, you're simply aware earlier."

The teacher sighed and started grading papers again. "Okay. Have fun with the game, but don't get too carried away, will you? Especially you, Verse. I saw your latest essay and it's textbook perfect, but it lacks originality."

"Sorry," said Verse sheepishly. "You know me, I don't have much creativity. But my grades won't suffer, don't worry about it."

"I'm just telling you that it wouldn't earn an A in my class. Step up your game this next year and a half, okay? I know what your full effort looks like, and I won't accept anything less."

"Of course, Ms. Song," he nodded, still smiling, then turned back to Lane. "Don't keep it in Euro. I'm not there to keep an eye on it and remember who's in that class?"

"Oh." A wave of sudden realisation hit Lane like a bucket of water to the face as she hastily snatched her hand, which was still holding the papers, away from the AP European History folder.

"Yeah." Verse winced and smiled at the same time, resulting in an awkward smiling-but-not face. "I was thinking Chem, where I'm there, there aren't any major threats, and Kim-Yu's pretty chill."

"Okay, Chem it is, then. I'll work with this and see what I can do," Lane said, taking out a Sharpie pen and a binder full of paper. "How much time do I have…?" In one motion, she pulled her phone out, pressed the lock button, glanced at the screen, clicked the button again, and slid it back into her bag. "Verse, it's 6:40. You wanna go to riflery practice for a bit longer than usual? You needed the practice, right?"

"Yeah, that's a good idea. While I'm there, I'll set up my avatar, too. No one in their right mind would be at a riflery range at 7 o'clock in the morning on a Tuesday, so I'll be nice and alone. I'll be back at 9 o'clock, on the dot." Slinging the black case and his bag onto his back, Verse walked away and paused right before the door. "Good luck, Lane," he said, opening the door and walking out.


End file.
